


I've got friends in low places

by Notophthalmus



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 19:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11561652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notophthalmus/pseuds/Notophthalmus
Summary: Even falling down drunk, Sam Axe is still a man I am very glad to have on my side, particularly when I’m ziptied to a chair getting the bejeezus beat out of me after a job goes south.  Of course, I was pretty out of it by the time my brother Nate, of all people, found Sam at his bar of the week, where he was midway through one of his more serious benders.  And don’t get me wrong, I’m damned grateful he showed up and kicked the bad guys’ asses, even with most of a bottle of scotch running around in his bloodstream, but the problem is, you put me in a lot of pain and then have someone with alcohol on his breath put a hand on me, even to check for a pulse, and I tend to get a little confused about how old I am.





	1. Chapter 1

Even falling down drunk, Sam Axe is still a man I am very glad to have on my side, particularly when I’m ziptied to a chair getting the bejeezus beat out of me after a job goes south. Of course, I was pretty out of it by the time my brother Nate, of all people, found Sam at his bar of the week, where he was midway through one of his more serious benders. And don’t get me wrong, I’m damned grateful he showed up and kicked the bad guys’ asses, even with most of a bottle of scotch running around in his bloodstream, but the problem is, you put me in a lot of pain and then have someone with alcohol on his breath put a hand on me, even to check for a pulse, and I tend to get a little confused about how old I am. It wasn’t much of a slip, but Sam definitely caught it, the sucked in breath and widened eyes that caught his just inches away from my face. There must’ve been real fear there, because he backed off quick.

“Sorry Mike,” he said, keeping his hands palms towards me, which was entirely for my benefit, considering I was still tied to the chair and couldn’t have decked him one even if I had been that freaked. Say what you like about Sam, but he’s got more kindness in him than me an’ Fiona combined. For a soldier, Sam’s never been too fond of causing any kind of pain. It’s one of the things I like about him. 

“You with me Mikey?” he checked, and waited for my nod before going back to cutting me loose.

He had to help me walk out of there. It was slow going, but I didn’t figure out why until he tried to tried to help me into the car waiting outside and one of his legs collapsed under him. At that point I finally tumbled to the fact that too much of the blood on him was his. 

Nate made to get out of the driver’s seat to help, but Sam growled at him to stay put. I was mostly in the car, and I’m sure he thought that if trouble came out of the warehouse after us he could convince Nate to get me out of there and leave him behind. I dragged myself across the backseat and Sam pulled himself in after me without using the arm whose shoulder was increasingly red. Nate hit the gas the moment we had the door closed. 

“Call Fiona, Sam,” I ordered, as the world started fading out. My hands were slippery with both our blood and I wasn’t about to let Sam bleed out because I was having a fight with my ex-girlfriend. 

“Call Fiona,” I said. “Tell her I said I’m a dick and I’m sorry. OK? Do we have an understanding?”

Sam must’ve agreed, because I decided that it was a good time to pass out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I came to, Fiona was sitting on my bed with a knife.

When I came to, Fiona was sitting on my bed with a knife. 

“Good morning sunshine,” she chirped, her lilt in full effect, and resumed cutting off my shirt. “Want to place a bet on how many of these ribs are broken?” she asked.

“Hi Fi,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”

“Well, when Sam described your apology I just had to come over, just to see what disaster would wring such words from the Michael Weston.”

At Sam’s name, I glanced over at the Hawaiian-print shape on my couch. Fiona caught me at it.

“Him,” she said, ripping the cloth of my undershirt with great gusto, “I pulled three bullets out of. Three. That was almost as much fun as your apology. Someone,” she said, pitching her voice to carry across the room, “needs to learn that when going intae battle it’s a much better plan tae have your alcohol on fire in a bottle than in your stomach slowin’ ye’ down enough to catch bullets.”

“Yeah, well, it comes in real handy when you’ve got a harpy hackin’ away at you pretending to be a surgeon,” Sam growled, shifting on the couch.

“If you move from there, Samuel Axe, I swear by the Red, Orange, and Green itself I will tie you down. I’ll not have you messing up all my hard work.”

“Aw, Fiona,” Sam snarked. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“Oh, so you want me to tell Michael, then, about how you refused to go to sleep until he woke up.”

“I just didn’t want to let my guard down alone in a room with you.”

“Sam,” I said.

“Oh all right. Don’t let her shave my head while I’m out, will you Mikey?”

“I think I’ve got it covered.”

Fiona pouted. 

“Spoilsport.” 

“Where’s Nate?” I asked Fiona, keeping my voice down in the hopes that Sam actually would get some rest. 

“I sent him to check up on your mom.” Fiona grinned evilly. “And then as soon as I’ve made sure you’re not going to kick the bucket on us anytime soon, I’m going to go find out whether the police picked up your dance partner’s like they were supposed to. You know, you at least ought to buy me dinner once in a while if you’re going to keep insisting I clean up your messes.” 

“I swear, as soon as I don’t feel like my teeth are about to fall out. Just so long as it’s not that Italian place you liked. The one with the scary mafia men.”

“Oh, Michael. You don’t let me have any fun.”

“Ouch! Those are my ribs, Fiona! And I’d like to keep them out of my lungs, if we can manage it.”

“Oh hush. Stop trying to distract me from the fact that you are a party pooper.”

“I’m not- ow! I’m not a party-pooper, Fiona. And what are you, twelve? It’s just that I get shot at enough when I’m on the clock. I don’t need to get shot at after hours, too. Hold off, hold off,” I yelped, as she tied off the last bandage. “Seriously, Fi, thanks.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”

“I never thought it did.” 

“Well, good then. I’ll check in on you after I’ve found out what happened to whoever you got angry this time.”

“Don’t do anything drastic, Fiona” I warned. “You don’t have any back-up right now.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “As if I needed to resort to violence to get a little information from your country’s ridiculous police force. Don’t be silly. You just try not to let Sam move too much. He somehow managed not to get shot anywhere important, but... what? Stop looking at me like that. I just don’t want to have to do those stitches again.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to the Garth Brooks song. 
> 
> I've only watched the first season of Burn Notice, so this is probably fairly canon-non-compliant after that. 
> 
> I stopped watching because although I actually really like my head-canon-character of Michael Westen, I cannot stand on-screen Michael Westen. But I really really love every single one of the secondary characters. 
> 
> So if someone in the comments wants to tell me that in the later seasons Michael's character at least doesn't get more unlikeable, or that Sam and Fiona and Madeline get significant screen-time, I'll find a way to catch up with the rest of the show.


End file.
